Potter's Scripts
by Emerin
Summary: Harry Potter may be the famous BoyWhoLived, but, he's still just a boy...and like any other, he has kept a diary which was cleverly heisted from the Savior's trunk by one, Ron Weasely references to GreenEyes Trilogy, read them for further info
1. Excerpt One

Hullo people!

It is I, the great and masterful Wizard of Id! haha. I dunno WHAT made me write this...I honestly don't. I just started one and the rest just sorta **came**. They're more or less funny and don't really follow any sort of plotline. So, if its a story you're expecting, I'm sorry, but you need to go to my other stories cause you'll find nothing even resembling logic in this one here.

Now, I kinda placed the journal entries round the timeline of Closure of the Prophecy. And yes, the later ones KINDA blend into **both** G R A V I T Y and In The Blink of an Eye. I dunno, i thought it was cool. Cause its not like those 2 are exactly the same, but this one makes it seem like they are. i dunno. Its one of those days...Well, enjoy this nonsense! WOOO!!!

_

* * *

_

A girl by the name of, well, one couldn't be bothered by such insignificanties...But for the sake of things, we'll call her Nancy. Well, Nancy was just afirst year Gryffindor. Trembling, quiet and positively frightened to death of most things in Hogwarts. Have you SEEN the third floor???  
Well, to fully prepare herself and get a footing on the happenings of the school, Nancy had grown accustomed to checking the Gryffindor bulletin board. So, here she was, first thing in the morning, pondering over whether _'Need Brain Power For Exams? Contact Seamus Finnigan and Neville Longbottom For More Info!_' was a good venture or not...And that's when she saw it. A torn out piece of parchment from the looks of it. Taped on the edge of the board all willy-nilly, as if the person had been in a rush. Squinting at the paper, she noticed it was in handwriting, and that it was a bit messy.

But sherecognized the writing...Vaguely anyways. She WAS a first year afterall. It looked fantastically similar to the one on the big red poster that took up most of the upper board; _'QUIDDITCH TRYOUTS-THIS WEEKEND. BRING OWN BROOM'_.

With a gasp, Nancy clasped a hand to her mouth, but not before attracting the attention of some rambunctous fourth and fifth years. After nudging her shocked form aside, they too gasped, and soon there was a riot infront of the bulletin board.

"Oi! What's going on here?"

Nancy whirrled around to see the Head Boy, Ronald Weasley, standing next to his seventh year classmates at the abse of the stairs. Nancy squeaked, shifted her gaze and squeaked again at the sight of bright green eyes and pitch black hair standing next to the Head Boy.

"I didn't do it! Please don't hurt me!" And with that she dove behind a third year to evade any oncoming hexes.

Harry Potter walked up to the board, took a good look and passed out.A redheaded girl fanned him studiously as two other seventh years seemed downright tickled by the parchment. The Head Boy looked on with stiffled sniggers.

- - - - -

_Page 5_

Dear Journal,  
Today was just one of those days 't think outside of the usual standard I've set when things get to be too much. sigh .I've written a song while I was out on the pitch after practice, best keep it in here lest anyone finds it. Thats all I need, to be branded The Boy-Who-Was-Meloncholy.

**Sky-bound**

Green eyes, open wide....

Am I the only one?  
Am I all thats left?  
Is it coming now?  
All the smiles it kept...

From me

Can this be enough?  
All I want is time and peace for myself  
I think you're making me blind  
With the tears in my eyes

This is too real  
I can not deal  
The hand fate's gave me  
Give me my Firebolt instead

(Chorus)  
And I'll soar through the sky  
Like the greatest bird  
Untamed and not questioning why  
I am free to glide  
No one near  
I can see  
Everything below me  
And I wonder how  
I had ever managed  
To keep my feet on the ground

There's no one here  
I can now think  
Or choose not to  
Its all up to me

Clouds are my companions  
Birds are my friends  
They are where I am wanted  
They are my kin

This is too real  
I can not deal  
The hand fate's gave me  
Give me my Firebolt instead

(chorus)

Listen now, as I flutter down  
Reality sinks in  
Harshly put sounds  
I stow away my broomstick  
Suck in breath  
Cause soon I will be  
Up there again

This may get too real  
Sometimes I can't deal  
With the hand fate's dealt me  
Me and my broom will come out in the end

(Chorus)


	2. Excerpt Two

Hullo!

Quick note, right quick. All the songs and poems are MINE. So, please, don't copy them or use them without atleast letting me know. Thanks. Enjoy the second entry!

* * *

Ron quickly peeked about the dim Gryffindor Common Room, noting the unusual silence hanging over the tower. If he was quick enough, no one would see him. So with a soft '_SHHHP'_, Ron tore a leaf from a maroon leather journal, enhanced it and tacked it to the Gryffindor bulletin board. With a rather evil grin, Ron stood back and surveyed his work. The page was positioned not really on the bottom, but enough so that it blended with the rest of the papers. People would see it first thing (if last time was anything to go by), just enough time for Harry to realize that his diary was being randomly posted on the common room board.. The previous page had been put upbefore breakfast of last week. Honestly, the guy was FAR too trusting. Leaving his trunk wide open and that journal just sitting atop like a prize at the top of a pyramid. 

Ron smiled once more to himself then slunk away back to his dormitory, thoughts of sweet sweet revenge for the brunette helping Ron's twin brothers in a plot to humilate the redhead in the worst possible way (think 'naked', 'Great Hall' and 'Hermione'). Hey, Fred and George didn't get ALL the evil genes, now did they?

- - - - -

_Page 9_

Dear Journal,  
Doesn't it seem a bit odd to you the real source of my "fame"? I mean, its rather morbid when you think about it. I'm famous because I survived the death of my parents, 13 muggles, Peter Pettigrew and countless others. Honestly. Have you actually thought about it?...........  
Ok, I suppose you haven't, but you really should, being my journal and all. Its just...odd.  
Hell, had I known that you get fame for living through something so tragic, I'd suggest the same to Malfoy since he's been reeming me ever since I first met him 'bout my popularity. The bloody wanker can HAVE it for all I care. frustrated sigh  
Anyway, sadistic poem time. WEE!

O.O

You say nothing, I'm not in the right state of mind to be held responsible for my 'WEE!'

**Oblivion's OK**

Escaping from the bottomless pit of my mind  
Tripping on insanity  
I reach out for the random act of kindness  
But end up tumbling into Oblivion  
I cling to a branch of Hope  
And climb back up with Maturity  
I run away from Emptiness  
And into the arms of Comfort  
Faith holds me safe from Torment  
And the glint of Love keeps me in her strength

I am no more  
I am someone else  
But still me

I smile with tears down my cheeks  
I laugh as the wounds secrete blood  
But I am OK


	3. Excerpt Three

HULLO PEPZ!

Chapter 3 is here! I know, this has got to be the STUPIDEST of all my story ideas, but oh well. They're fun and it keeps me occupied whilst I brood over my other chapters that're at nasty standstills. Damn plot bunnies are boycotting me. ILL TURN THEM INTO TEA COZIES, I WILL!!

ahem

Ok, onto chapter.

**Heart and Mind**: Why, thank you. I love my poetry abilities. They never quite get the exercise they need though. I'm always busy with writing stories...::looks around as he gets WAY off topic:: Ok then!

**mayara-2007**: haha! YAY! I have brethren! Brethren is good! So, I checked out your two randomness and I must say, INTERESTING. Totally out there, but loving every second of it. I'll try to add a review today since I ran outta time yesterday

**Archmage of Necromancy**: Isn't he though? Weaslebee is just never depicted as a prat unless its Harry telling him he's gay. Oh well.. MORE BASTARD WEASEL!

* * *

If he was honest with himself, this particular entry to be on display stabbed at his heart a little...It was deeply personal and showed a side of the Boy-Who-Lived that no one outside of extremely close friends (like him...SHAMESHAME!) and girlfriends got to see.

Ron wasn't feeling like the greatest friend in the world at the moment and was having a grand battle of morals as well. Inner turmoil threatened to uphend poor Ron and his brilliant plot to expose the Boy Wonder for the human that he was. It wasn't as if Ron was jealous or anything, it was just payback for that horrible prank. The redhead certainly wasn't taking more than sufficient pleasure in revealing Harry's inner, most darkest secrets. But...he HAD to admit, finding out Harry had an inner poet and that he was self-conscious all over the place was a BIT of a relief. He knew the brunette was less than confident, but the degree to which Harry berated himself was, well, a pleasant surprise. Maybe all this was good for the chap. Maybe allowing people to really see the REAL Harry Potter, the guy could open up and stop being such a whiny pain in the arse.

So, with a resound sigh, Ron tacked the latest leaf from his mate's journal and scurried away before anyone was the wiser.

- - - - -

_Page 13_

Dear Journal,

Sorry I haven't written in awhile...Its just..I've been busy. Well, no, ok, thats a lie. I've just been flat out avoiding you. Nothing personal, I just know I'm going to rant like a blubbering baby, and I had to psyche myself up for it, yanno?

Well, like I said before, situations just don't turn out the way you'd hope they would. I know I was pretty curt and all but vague in my last entry, now that I just re-read it. But...you get the picture.

Cienna's still gone. Hermione's still gone. I'm still here. The Boy-Who-Lived...AGAIN. The Boy-Who-Just-Won't-Fucking-Die! The Boy-Who-Always-Gets-People-Killed. The Boy-Who-Always-Fails...I could go on like this for pages, but I'm sure you want more substance than that by the way you're shaking in annoyance on my lap.

Don't blame me, its the depression talking.

Well, here's a song I wrote in honour of Cienna...My beautiful, pure, always-had-a-smile-for-no-good-reason Cienna.

**Aching**

Talk: The silence is deafening  
Heart's incomplete since you left me  
Can't see any light  
My tears icy when I cry  
(sigh) And I tremble all night

Our love was beautiful  
The stuff fairy tales breed on  
You smiled, and I breathed  
I sung, and you could see  
(whisper) There're no words now

(chorus)  
Angels take flight, like birds with painted wings  
Pools sparkle with enchanted things  
You were my piece  
My soul  
My whole  
I'll never let you go

Life's empty now  
Don't know what to do with myself  
Fingers aching to touch , your skin  
Eyes yearning to look, within  
See me  
Please God  
Heal me

(chorus)

Loneliness consuming the senses  
My mind's losing sanity  
Flesh tingling with impatience  
Wanna feel you near again

(chorus)

come back, ooooh  
Fly back, oooh  
Come back  
Come back... to me


	4. Excerpt Four

_New chappie. Nuff said._

_-----------------------------------------_

Now, he really shouldn't have cared either way. This was revenge, as you well know. But something in Ron made him gracious, and therefore, he decided to wait awhile before posting the next entry. Stopping all together never crossed his mind, naturally. Harry DID deserve all this afterall.

And after that stunt he pulled at the nightclub. Well!

Ok, so, he didn't see it himself, but he'd heard enough about it. Finding out your best mate snogged your sister is a handful to handle first of all, but finding out about it from Seamus Finnigan while using the loo makes it downright impossible to be rational. Add to the fact that Ron knew Jimmy liked Ginny to begin with, well...Lets just say Harry needed to be brought down a few pegs.

And tonight's selection from the Boy-Who-Lived's diary was especially juicy. Ron knew atleast 20 girls who'd fall over dead at the thought of having that poem written about her. Ron scrunched his nose as he taped the parchment to a different corner of the board. Ginny was probably not going to be all that coherent today after she got a good look at the journal entry. Chewing on his lip as he continued on his way through the common room, Ron plotted out a perfectly wonderful sunday in Hogsmeade with his most favorite sister.

- - - - -

_Page 45_

Dear Journal,

I am one oblivious son of a bitch, yanno that right? Geez, could I get any stupider?

Ok, last night we went to a club, right? Me and the team (don't growl at me for my grammar, I'm not in the mood). Dean picked out the place and Jimmy insisted he come along. Well, who am I to disagree with the WHOLE bloody team?

Anyways, we got to drinking and dancing (my headache feels like a 2-ton truck ramming against a dam, repeatedly) and before I knew it, GINNY WEASLEY was dancing inbetween me and Jim.

I mean, I love the girl, but DAMN! I now know areas of little Ginny Weasley I never knew I could know without Ron ripping me a new one. But the worse part of it was,well, she kissed me.

Don't get me wrong, it was FABULOUS! I'm not a prude or anything. Ha! Far from it, but I only barely found out today from Andrew Kirke that right after she kissed me, she had kissed Jim.  
NOW it makes sense why he ran out the way he 'm never going to admit that to him, the great blooming git. Can you believe he's still refusing to talk to me? Aren't Gryffindors supposed to brave?

Bloody coward.

Anyways...I haven't been able to get that kiss out of my head (mine with Ginny's, not Ginny's with Jimmy's you sick perv). Now the following wasn't inspired persay by Ginny...well...sort of...yes...no..maybe...Ok, well, it got me thinking of just women in general...a few in particular...ANYWAYS.

So, here's another horrendous poem I was inspired to write in Potions while i set aflame my table. It was quite brilliant, actually. I never knew Snape could foam at the mouth like that...Hmm..I wonder if there's werewolf blood in his family. I'll have to check in on that....

**Infatuation**  
Blue flames dance  
Sway with a breath  
Crystals melt  
Evaporate whats left  
They tickle my soul  
The flames  
They do  
Entrance my eyes  
Stare at them transfixed  
The flames of blue  
Date I touch?  
My fingers ache to  
Dare I still look?  
My eyes yearn to  
They melt from my sockets  
And it starts to burn  
But I don't care  
I can't turn away  
The flames of blue  
They keep me waiting  
They do  
The flames  
Her flames of blue


	5. Excerpt Five

_Hullo!!  
_Well, looks like I've been getting lazy...blech..So sue me.I've been sick as a dog the past WEEK. It was HORRIBLE. I still am sniffly and my girlfriend's starting to complain and my head's hella lightheaded and...::whines:: I HATE BEING SICK!!

Ok, anyways, here's a BIG chunk of the rest of this randomness. I'll see if I feel like making more. D

* * *

Ron was at his wits end. Truly. There was just only so much one man could take, and this was it. Now, Ron Weasley never favored himself a horrid or cruel person. Quite the opposite infact. But there comes a time in EVERY sidekicks life that he finds he severely needs to kick his Spotlight-Hog counterpart swiftly in their pompous arse. Now, Ron had been gracious and left Harry to his own devices for the better part of a year. Needless to say, the Gryffindors had been felt utterly dejected. Harry, of course, had felt elated and proceeded in telling off every other person that if they got the idea to continue this charade, he'd give them a teaching or two. Ron wasn't impressed.

However, once the year was over and graduation had passed, the party enjoyed and goodbyes set in place, Ron felt it was his duty as Sidekick to finish his most noble task in keeping Harry Potter's head from inflating to the size of Big Ben. So, in the spirit of goodnatured fun, the redhead had used his connections to a certain spiky-haired weasel whom lived with the brunette to nick the diary and pluck a choice page from its bowels. This time, though, the diary fought back and Ron was seen leaving Black Manor with a series of curious scratches that looked remarkably like boomarks.

So, it was then that a few days later a wonderfully juicy article popped up in Witch Weekly, claiming that they had the inside scoop to the innerds of the Boy-Who-Lived.

Needless to say, Harry was found Y2-K'ing his chambers, claiming that one could live very comfortably indeed from their room.

Ron had to put a silencing spell on himself to muffle his hysterics.

---------

_Page 57_

Dear Journal,

No clever witty prologue today, just the song. I just don't have the strength after all the chaos this past week....Graduation was murder (pardon the pun).

But before I jot down the self-pitying lyrics I composed, might i scribble a few parting words to my favorite dark wizard?

Much obliged.

_ahem_

**_ROT IN HELL VOLDIE! YOU SCUM-SUCKING, CAT-EYED, VOYEURISTIC, DISTURBED, TRANSLUSCENT PIECE OF HIPPOGRIFF MANURE!! MY ONLY REGRET WAS NOT SLICING OFF YOUR WORTHLESS BALLS FOR A TROPHY!_**

with love,  
Harry

Ok, i'm done. ONTO THE SELF-PITYING!

**Float Me Free**

I've trudged through life  
Avoiding a crucial circumstance  
I've floated free  
Untame and unbound to anyone  
I have no home  
No family to love me  
There is no hug  
Waiting when I return

But its ok  
Its no big deal  
Just another day as me

(chorus)  
Screaming your name  
Into the great unknown  
But do you hear  
My breaking voice?  
Do you glance over your shoulder  
At the people in the crowd?  
Can you recognize my dirty face now?

When you hear my name  
Do my eyes pop into view?  
When you speak a ryhme  
Do the lyrics flood you?  
Cause its long gone  
My memory is the ash  
That scattered into the wind

But its ok  
Its no big deal  
Its just another day as me

(Chorus 2x)


	6. Excerpt Six

Ron tilted his head a bit, peering at the latest leaflet he'd snagged from Harry's journal. Before, he'd had close to nill reservations about posting such personal emotions. But this was crossing the line. Ron knew almost everything about his best mate, but he was beginning to realize just how little he REALLY wanted to know sometimes.

This was one of the cases.

Nevertheless, Ron stuffed the parchments in an envelope, handed it to Pig and waited until he heard the screaming coming from the bowels of Black Manor...And probably Malfoy Manor as the situation merited. A broad grin broke out over Ron's face as the oncoming scene panned out in his mind. Poor Malfoy though.And Jimmy for that matter  
"Oh well. I'm sure Ferret-face and Jim havebeen anxiously waiting for a REAL reason to deck Harry."

And Ron handed it to them on a silver platter. Sometimes he wondered why he hadn't been sorted into Slytherin.

-----------

_Page 60_

Dear Journal,

Wow, I haven't written in a few weeks, huh? I feel bad. But its for good reason, so don't start biting my fingers when I go to close you now. Me and Jim have been busy as Welsh Greens during nesting season. Grimmauld Place is alright for now, and most of our stuff is safely stowed in a spare bedroom. But I need to get out. I swear to god, the paintings are starting to stalk me. I'm serious. I was in the loo the other day and Uncle Vespen from the downstairs parlor was keeping on eye on me behind the Siren. It was creepy! And Jim says its been happening to him too. Seems the occupants aren't too happy that we both killed their psychotic-leader and brought back the heir to The House of Black.  
Jim rightly suggest that as soon as Sirius gets well, we make the house go down in glorious flames.

I am acutely reminded of my incident in Potions with the mis-concoted Draught of the Feign of Heart. Wasn't my fault Ginny Weasley was a good kisser...I wonder if she's still interested....

Anyways. Something occured to me the other day as me and Jim were putting away groceries: He's pretty well built. Now, don't get me wrong, I love girls. Always have, always will, but I just couldn't help noticing when he was reaching to shove a few boxes of fire-whiskey on the top shelf for Mundungus. His shirt had ridden up and I got a full view of his stomach. It made me wonder about my own body. Now, my Quidditch training got me quite filled out, but not like Jimmy. He's had a different work out routine than me, being a star player back at his old school, Dunlap. For BOTH Quodpot and Quidditch. Being a Chaser has put his body in a more..I don't know.._developed _state than mine.

And thats how I got to thinking bad things.

Don't tremble at me. I honestly wasn't thinking bad things until this point. I swear!

My mind wandered onto my team mates and whether or not they had Jimmy's build as well. For the most part, Seamus, Andrew and Jack were slim, but not like me. They had muscle and the broad shoulders and the height. I more or less skipped over Ron, thinking of him THAT critically just wasn't on my list of comfortable train of thought. Ginny,well, she's a girl so that put her in a WHOLE different category.  
But might i just add, she has a lovely figure.

And if Ron ever reads this, I want to say I'm sorry to Dumbledore for putting him through a hernia at all of my school-day adventures and Jimmy gets everything.

Ok,well, onto my point. After I had skirted round Ginny Weasley's anatomy, I landed on my opposition through my Quidditch career, which naturally found me mentally criticizing Draco Malfoy's form.

No more said on that subject, because even now I feel a god awful blush creeping its way up my neck. Ah! Jimmy's spotted it!  
Shit. He's getting up with that determined smirk. Damn it all to hell, that boy.

I'll wrap this up before he gets to me.

I had bad bad BAD thoughts and ended up dreaming abo

**AAAGGH!!!!!!! **

ATTACK OF THE JIMMY! HELP! HELP!

_Evanesco Entry_


	7. Excerpt Seven

_Page 61_

Dear Journal,

Bugger that brother of mine. He ended up making me smudge half of what I wrote. I seriously need to start writing with a pen instead of a quill.

Well, now that I've found sanctuary in the overgrown garden, I believe I can finish where I left off earlier this afternoon.

**OW!** Hang o

l  
-  
**-** -----------------

SOD IT ALL!

Those stupid knomes just pop up whenever they're uninvited. I hope now they're enjoying the nextdoor neighbors yard and wrecking havoc on that house instead. I never liked those Muggles anyways...

Ok, back to business.

My dream.

I pretty much summed it up in a poem I wrote almost right after. Isn't it odd. ME, of all people, to be this closet thespian? I mean, really. Harry fecking Potter, hopeless romantic in his sappy poems and love songs. Just a thought.

Ok, the dream. Don't be so anxious, this is my sexual identity we're talking about here. Ok, fine, maybe not my IDENTITY, but my bloody well-being is at stake. Cause I **know** Malfoy would NOT be pleased to find out I practically had wet dreams about him.

Ugh. I think I'm going to be sick.

Malfoy's a great guy and all, but NO. Though the dream may lead you to think otherwise, I am NOT interested in Draco Malfoy, nor I ever will be. I don't swing that way.

Jimmy and Malfoy...are another matter....

They worry me their playful fights be something MORE? COULD they be hindering deep rooted passions towards one another and keeping it a well-hid secret?  
Are they keeping something hidden from the inquiring mind of Harry Potter?

_::thoughtful expression::_

Ok ok, the poem. Don't read into it or anything (HA! A pun! I slay myself!)

...yanno...If Jimmy DOES turn out to like Draco, I think I could give him this to give to the ol' Slytherin. He need never know Jim wasn't the one who wrote it...though Jim'd prolly be the clever git he is and reword it differently or something... I dunno...How pathetic am I to imagine ways to help out in my brother's love life?..God...I need a life...

OK! fine! Poem! Merlin's beard!

**Charmed One **

Your silver hair sprawled out on my chest  
Your endless stormy eyes searching my depth  
Those slender hands engulfed in my grip  
And my troubles are no more

Your pouty mouth kissing my skin  
Sending shivers of pleasure where your lips have been  
And I am left blissfully enchanted

I am under your spell  
Consume me now, my fair sir  
Call me your own and I will abade thee  
For I belong to you and no one else may claim me

My heart is your trinket  
You are my ray, beautiful one  
You are the day through which I run  
You are the hope that drives me on

Everything is nothing compared to you  
My perfect beauty  
My enchanting view


End file.
